


Studs

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-02
Updated: 2008-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8710192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam and Dean get caught making out in a bathroom stall in the men's room of The Sure Thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This story is dedicated to all you awesome slash writers, readers and reviewers. You rock!

  
Author's notes: This is my first frame story. Feedback would be most welcome. Again, thanks to SylvanWitch for the beta. Any mistakes are my fault.  


* * *

Title: Studs

Author: jdax

Rating: NC -17

 

***

 

Lou and his friends had witnessed a lot of weird shit in their line of work as over-the-road truck drivers, so when the old man came stumbling out of the men’s room of The Sure Thing, smirking and babbling to his drinking buddies about how he’d seen two young guys fucking each other in the last stall, they hardly blinked before eagerly settling in for the steamy details.

 

“Come on, Lou. Spill it,” they insisted when the old man was taking too long to deliver the goods.

 

He took a sip of beer, cleared his throat, then said, “Man, it was _unbelievable_. I’ve seen animals go at it like that, but Jesus…I thought they were gonna tear each other apart.”

 

The one called Mike turned to Joe, the guy next to him, and muttered, “Twenty bucks says he didn’t see anything we haven’t all seen before.” Joe grinned. “I’ll take that action.”

 

“Hey, how’d you see ‘em, anyway? Didn’t they close the freakin’ door?” a young guy named Dave asked Lou pointedly. He was new.

 

Lou sighed. “You ever see the cracks in the doors around this place? You could drive a Mack truck through ‘em. Now shut up. I’m tellin’ a story here.”

 

Already, a few hands were slipping under the table.

 

“So, I walk in there, see, and right off the bat I hear this deep-throated moan. At first, I think someone’s just had a little too much to drink, then I hear a second voice whisperin’.”

 

Every man leaned in with lecherous curiosity.

 

“What, Lou? What were they sayin’?” Dave asked. Before the old man could answer, Mike interrupted with, “Who gives a damn what they were sayin’? All anybody cares about is the sex. So, how ‘bout it, Lou? Get to the good stuff, and don’t spare the fuckin’ details.”

 

***

 

Dean braced one trembling hand against the stall door and the other slipped into Sam’s hair as his brother dropped to his knees. Dean rested his head against the wall, closed his eyes, listened to the blood pulsing in his ears. He moaned, shifted, thought for a moment about shoving his brother away, stopping this before it started, but Sam chose that precise moment to open his mouth.

 

Dean felt them before he saw them. It took a minute and several failed attempts before his inebriated brain allowed him to understand exactly how much of a stranger Sam had become in the four months they’d been separated.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Dean moaned. He wasn’t sure which surprised him more: the length of Sam’s tongue, or the two, hard little studs he’d pierced it with. The tongue felt heavy, wet, and warm as Sam dragged it slowly along the underside of Dean’s swollen cock, taking special care, it seemed, to press those two points deep into that sensitive, aching flesh. Dean glanced down in time to see the entire length of his shaft disappear between his brother’s lips.

 

Sam sucked him deep and slow, humming and moaning. “So good,” Dean breathed, clutching at him, palms damp with sweat as he sank his fingers into the younger man’s shoulders. Dean swung a leg up, bracing his boot against the opposite wall, thrusting his hips forward to meet that hungry mouth. He watched through hooded lids, heavy with lust, as Sam’s throat worked. Every now and then, Sam would flick the head with the tip if his tongue, exposing two, small, silver studs before engulfing Dean in fire again.

 

_Who_ are _you?_ Dean wondered distantly as Sam licked a finger and reached between his brother’s legs, probing gently. Dean had been back a week, but the brother he’d left behind was, in many ways, still lost. Somehow, that made this easier.

 

Sam pulled off long enough to look up at Dean and say, “Spread your legs.” Dean clenched down hard, grunting in pain as Sam’s finger breached him. “Relax,” Sam whispered. “Let me in.” Panting hard, Dean shifted, spreading himself as his brother worked him open. 

 

Maybe it was a minute, maybe a millennia, but Sam was sucking him down again and the fingers inside – there were three of them now - no longer hurt. They filled him, stretched him, and Dean canted his hips back and forth to fuck himself as deeply as Sam would allow. “Aw, yeah,” Dean moaned, biting his lip, letting his eyes close as his brother’s slick fingers slipped wetly in and out of his body. He knew Sam was watching his face as he came undone, but the thought had barely occurred to him before he felt a large, warm hand wrap around his dick, pumping hard as he spilled over his brother’s fingers.

 

“Aw, Christ,” Dean moaned, riding out his pleasure as Sam’s firm grip milked the last spasms from him. Sam continued to offer his shoulder as Dean fought to steady himself. His legs suddenly felt leaden as his foot dropped to the floor and he leaned back against the wall, panting. 

 

“Why do I let you do this?” Dean asked no one in particular.

 

Sam rose up before him, held up his hands, smirking. “Feel free to stop me any time.”

 

Dean reached out, clutched Sam’s shirt in his fists, gritted his teeth, but stopped short of pushing his brother away when he felt a hard bulge pressing against his leg. 

 

“That’s what I thought,” Sam whispered as he flicked the button of his own jeans. Dean hated that he was getting hard again just from the click of Sam’s belt buckle, from the sound of his zipper being pulled down to release his heavy, swollen cock. Dean licked his lips.

 

“Sam, wait-”

 

But there were fingers swiping through the still-warm come on his belly, then Sam had him in a hold, shoving him face-first against the opposite wall. The room didn’t stop spinning when they did. 

 

“Damn it, Sam, just…just let me-” Dean shifted, struggled to find words, to shrug his brother off, but his mind and body were slowed by a pleasant stupor of satiation. His limbs were heavy, numb, yet he felt with perfect clarity every shuddering breath against his neck as Sam wrapped himself around him, swearing quietly as his hands slid under the hem of Dean’s shirt, exploring, mapping all points between the hollow of his throat and, slipping lower, the warm, wet, surprising curve of Dean’s cock, reaching again toward the memory of pleasure. Dean closed his eyes, smelled the sweat between them, leaned back a moment into the solid warmth of his brother’s body, remembering suddenly why he let Sam do this.

 

He sank into his brother’s hand, almost escaping for the moment – but not quite – an apprehension he’d had all along about this, about being caught. About being back just over a week and already dragging Sam down into a hole again. He pictured Sam crawling toward him on the bed in that shithole motel room back in Illinois, naked, hungry, beautiful. It was even romantic, in an angry, lonely, sacrificial sort of way. Sam had consumed him in a maelstrom of regret, nearly destroyed him with the recrimination that vibrated between them. They never said what needed saying, just fucked it all away until they lay panting on their backs, quiet but for the deafening silence. Later, in the deepest dark of that night, Dean promised this was it. The last time. No more. Never again. Sam laughed quietly and whispered, “You always come back to me, Dean.” It was true. Dean thought about that long into the night and into the small hours of dawn, never sleeping but laying quite still, swallowing slowly the awful truth: he needed Sam more than Sam needed him, sought him, built his whole life around him. 

 

Went to Hell for him.

 

Sam stroked Dean’s cock, swiped his thumb over the leaking head as he sank his teeth into the glistening flesh of his brother’s shoulder.

 

Dean moaned.

 

“Slut.” Sam grinned against his neck, licked slowly, torturously, around the shell of his ear.

 

Yeah, there was no way this wasn’t ending in fire for both of them.

 

“Sam, seriously, let’s go back to the car,” he said breathlessly, fumbling for his zipper.

 

“Hey,” Sam said more gently, “You okay?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, unsure how to answer that without lying. “Let’s just go. I’ll give you a blow job or something later.”

 

“It’s too late, man, “Sam answered almost apologetically. Dean felt the truth of that as Sam’s leaking cock pressed against his ass. As uneasy as Dean suddenly felt, he wasn’t a sadist.

 

“Okay, but make it quick. Someone’s bound to come in for a piss pretty soon.”

 

“And what? You don’t want them to find you in here getting fucked by your little brother?” Sam smirked. Dean moaned, reached up and clutched the top of the stall until his knuckles turned white. “Just…come _on_ ,” he whispered harshly.

 

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. The words had barely been uttered before Sam was sinking his aching cock inside. Dean could feel it filling him, one pulsing inch at a time.

 

“So tight,” Sam whispered. His breath was ragged, shuddering next to Dean’s ear as he paused, then slowly began stroking in and out. Dean gasped, reached for his own cock, but Sam caught his wrists, wrapping his hands over Dean’s, holding him there. 

 

Dean’s face felt hot despite being pressed against the cool metal wall. He was reading a list of names and telephone numbers scratched into the stall door, was wondering what kind of time _they’d_ had, when he heard something outside the stall.

 

He paused, listened again.

 

There was someone out there, and they were moaning. 

 

“Sam!” Dean whispered fiercely between clenched teeth.

 

Sam grunted, thrust in and out harder. “Christ, I love it when you say my name like that. _So_ hot.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, someone’s _watching_ us.”

 

Sam barely skipped a beat before he reached down and started stroking Dean’s cock again. Leaning in close to Dean’s ear, he said, “You like that, don’t you?”

 

Dean blinked hard, unsure which stimulus Sam was referring to. His hand? His dick? His words? God, did it even matter anymore? Sam slipped wetly in and out of his tight hole, the sucking sound suddenly obscenely loud.

 

“Someone’s out there, right now, listening to you moan, watching me fuck you,” Sam continued. His voice dropped down lower as he added, “They’re probably fucking themselves, too.”

 

Sam laughed as his brother’s cock twitched in his hand. “Who knows, maybe we’ll end up on the internet.”

Dean gasped despite himself. All they needed was their twisted family dynamic spread all over the World Wide Web. Then again, the thought of millions of people getting off on the two of them fucking each other was making him harder than he wanted to admit.

 

Another moan, but this one from the other side of the door. 

 

Sam pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck as he said, “Let’s give ‘em what they want.”

 

The stall door was rattling on its hinges by the time Sam filled Dean with his release. Dean, for his part, was shuddering through his second orgasm when his brother cried out softly against Castiel’s handiwork, reminding him suddenly of the other, more selfish reasons he spent time like this with Sam. 

 

Part of him just wanted to. 

 

Had always wanted to, but it took an act of Heaven and Hell to make him see it. No matter what came before or after, for once, the greater part of life wasn’t being spent hedging against death.

 

It felt good.

 

Damn good.

 

And that, he knew, was exactly why it wouldn’t last.

 

***

 

Every man at the table stared at Lou, wide eyed and slack-jawed.

 

After several long moments - some of which were spent covertly adjusting after that lurid story – Mike spoke. “Are you tellin’ us you heard, no, _saw_ , two brothers fucking each other in the men’s room?”

 

Lou nodded. 

 

Mike glanced at the bathroom door. No one matching the so-called brothers’ description had come out. He grunted doubtfully. “Looks like you owe me twenty bucks,” he said to Joe.

 

“How do you figure? You said Lou hadn’t seen anything new, but I gotta say, I’ve been working in the trucking industry a long time and I ain’t never seen two brothers fucking each other. At least I never heard two guys actually call each other that while they were screwin.’”

 

Mike sighed. “They were probably just – what’s that shit called? Role playin’? Lou said they were talkin’ dirty. It was all probably part of an act.”

 

There were a few murmurs of disappointed agreement as the waitress stopped by. As she offered them another round, the bathroom door swung open. Every man at the table glanced up in time to see two young guys – one freakishly tall – step out and make a direct line to the front door. The shorter one was tucking his shirt in as he walked passed them.

 

“That them?” Mike asked as he eyed the retreating pair.

Lou nodded and smirked. Mike had smelled it – sex and sweat in their wake.

 

“Hey, you know those two?” Mike asked the waitress. She smiled. “The Winchester brothers? Yeah, they started coming in here about a week ago. They always order a bunch of drinks, then spend the rest of the night in the bathroom.” She shook her head. “Poor bastards just don’t know how to party, I guess.”

 

Dave laughed. “Oh, I think they had a pretty good time tonight.”

 

The waitress nodded as she turned away. “Good to know their luck is changing.”

 

“Yeah, they got lucky, alright,” Joe added. When the waitress was gone, he turned to Mike, but the man was already sliding a twenty across the table.

 

As his friend smiled and pocketed the bill, Mike adjusted himself under the table, eyed the bathroom door and wondered if Joe would care to go double or nothing on a side bet.

 

***


End file.
